


Ten Seconds to Sunrise

by Guywriter



Category: Psych
Genre: Case Fic, M/M, Pirates, Shassie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guywriter/pseuds/Guywriter
Summary: On the surface, this is a case involving the murder of a fake pirate. Down deep, this is a story of budding romance in the most unexpected of places. When two people are forced to share close quarters, relationships are forced to grow as well. How far can Shawn Spencer get under Carlton Lassiter’s skin before he breaks?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trixietru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixietru/gifts).



> A big special thanks to AO3 user @trixietru for sharing her lovely stories and inspiring me to write this Shassie fic. You da bomb!

Halfway up the ramp, the crowd can finally see the main deck of the ship.

“Welcome aboard the Queen Marie!” Says a man standing front and center. 

He’s clad in a long red coat that reaches past his knees, an eyepatch over his left eye, a large black tricorne atop his head. A sword is neatly sheathed from his waist. 

“Come this way, everyone. I’ll be showing you around today. My name is Captain Redcoat and I’m in charge around here!” 

Camera flashes and excited murmurs were heard throughout the crowd. 

“Red coat? Like the British soldiers who fought in the American Revolution?” Gus elbowed Shawn in the side, whispering to his friend in a joking manner. 

“Dude, It’s supposed to be fun, not realistic!” Shawn retaliated.

“That's because it’s for little kids and their families.”

“Don’t diss the pirates, Gus.” Shawn tipped his newly bought pirate hat, “They’re badass.”

Captain Redcoat had lead everyone past the main deck and up some stairs to the quarter deck. A small crew of sailors were messing with the ropes that controlled the sails.

“I’m not dissing anyone, Shawn. You’re not the only one who decided to spend some gift shop money before the show!”

Gus pulled a small plastic telescope out of his pocket and put it up to his eye, looking upwards at the sails and how they unfurled with only the tugging of rope. 

“Shawn, there’s a man hanging up there!” Gus was back to whispering, and prodding at his friend with his elbow. “Don’t you think that’s a bit raunchy for a family show?”

Shawn didn’t budge, still staring up at Captain Redcoat, fully absorbed in the performance.   
“Shawn!” 

“Gus, don’t be Johnny Depp’s lack of glorious mustache in Edward Scissorhands. I’m trying to listen!”

But Shawn’s childlike curiosity always tended to win over. He glanced upwards, if only for a second, but that seemed enough to satisfy. In an instant, he’d snatched Gus’ telescope from his hands and aimed it upwards towards the hanging prop. 

“Buddy, I don’t want you to freak out, but that’s not a prop.”

The two men turned towards each other and screamed like little girls. 

~~~~~

The scene was secured when the police department was called in, and all the tourists were evacuated off the vessel.

Lassiter stepped aboard followed by Juliet. He took one look at Shawn and Gus standing on the main deck and rolled his eyes.

“Why am I not surprised these two idiots are already here? McNab!”

The teddy bear of a cop rushed over, “Yes, Detective?”

“Get these two back on dry land before they mess something up,” he barked.

“Actually sir, they were the ones who called this in.” Buzz bounced on uneven feet.

“Lassie!” The psychic rushed over, tipping his pirate hat. “Isn’t this place awesome? It’s like a real life pirate ship!”

“Spencer, Guster… What are you two doing here?”

“With all due respect, Lassie,” said Gus, “We were actually just enjoying a day off at the pirate festival. The Queen Marie is a truly beautiful ship refurbished from the actual days of maritime piriating. Most of the accessories here are actually real. Like the cannons!”

Coming up the ramp, was a team of coroners carrying a gurney to collect the body while some of the actual crew riggers maneuvered the ropes to lower said body.

Gus’ tone changed and he looked sick, rushing over to the side of the ship to puke into the waters below.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just a bit seasick,” Shawn smiled at Juliet and Lassiter. “Indeed, I was the one who called!” All he had to do was glance over at the body, now on the deck of the ship, and hand to head, claim it was murder.

“We’ll see what Woody has to say about this. From all appearances, it just looks like a suicide.” Lassiter shook his head disapprovingly. “These people can be incredibly predictable.”

Shawn Spencer smiled his devious smile, “Oh Lassie, haven’t you learned? I see things no one else sees. The spirits tell me everything. This is on like King Kong!”

“Isn’t the phrase ‘on like Donkey Kong?’” Jules asked.

“Well, technically that one still rhymes,” said Gus between heaves. “But your knowledge of video game pop culture should be discussed at a later date.”

~~~~

“Our John Doe was never technically a John Doe. His girlfriend identified him as Ian McIvor, a 26 year old medical student who just wanted to pick up some extra money.” Woody Strode paced back and forth as he spoke, stopping finally to stand at the head of the deceased, who was still covered in the classic blue sheet. “You know, I didn’t go to medical school, but I had a cousin who did. She ended up dying tragically in a freak roller coaster accident, but that’s actually completely irrelevant.”

“Of course he wasn’t a John Doe,” Lassiter stated. One foot was tapping against the tiled floor impatiently. “It says it in the chart right there, his girlfriend was also taking part in the ‘Real Pirates’ show. We’ve already talked to her and she has fuck-all idea what could have happened.”

Gus spoke up from the edge of the room. “Woody, If I may clarify something. In your expert opinion, is it possible that this could have been malicious muuuuurder?” He drew out the word, pointedly staring at Lassiter.

“Well, it’s entirely possible. The tox reports haven’t come back yet, it’s any man’s guess if there was anything else nefarious involved.”

Lassiter’s eyes shot bullets Woody’s way and the coroner stuttered.

“I-I mean, it’s also just as possible this was a suicide. His neck is broken and he has a collapsed larynx.” Woody tugged at his collar nervously. 

Shawn belted out a loud “ha!” 

The room turned to stare his way.

“All I’m hearing is that my theory holds water. Which means,” Shawn smiled at Lassiter, “I’m going to prove myself correct.”

Then, the door opened and Chief Vick peeked her head in.

Juliet, who had been standing silently in the corner, content to just observe the madness, spoke up. “Chief!”

“Can I have all of you upstairs in my office? Now please?” 

Woody started to follow the group, but Shawn put his hand against the coroner’s chest, not allowing him to walk forward. “Stay down here, buddy. Keep playing with your dead guys, or whatever it is you really get into with the stiffs.”

“Well last week, we actually had a pizza party and-”

“Talk later, man. Stay fresh.”

~~~~

Chief Vick sat at her desk, now surrounded by Lassiter and Juliet standing on one end and Shawn and Gus seated on the other.

“Now, we’ve all been briefed on the McIvor case, but the decision now stands that this would be a perfect case to actually go undercover. So I’ve actually gone and taken the liberty of signing the four of you up to audition for parts in the show, and assuming you get them, you’ll be staying for a week to get to know the other actors from the inside. Shawn, we’re all hoping you can psychically read the participants by spending close time with them…”

To Shawn and Gus, the chief’s voice had begun to fade out as their excitement grew. The two nearly vibrating in their chairs, fist bumping and smiling wide, were entirely in their own world now. 

Lassiter noticed and pointedly rolled his eyes. 

Yet secretly, he didn’t want to admit he was just the tiniest bit excited for this endeavour. It was like the pirate version of his civil war reenactments, a different piece of history to fully immerse himself in. He imagined getting to use different guns or firing cannons or wielding swords. He imagined learning more about the parts of the ship and how they were organized. He imagined the mock battle and the fake deaths he’d most definitely cause. He imagined the costumes he’d get to wear; the coats, the fake mustaches, the hats…

“Yooo, earth to Lassie!”

He came to with Shawn’s hand waving in front of his face. Vick had dismissed them all, and he was stuck staring at the ceiling, as much in his head as Shawn probably usually was. 

He grunted, smacked the other man’s hand aside, and left the office.

When Lassiter returned to his desk, Shawn trailed behind him. Hand to his head, he wore his classic smirk.

“I’m sensing that this is actually something you’re excited for, Lassieface. You actually like pirates, that’s cute,” he teased.

One quite reserved head detective nearly blushed.

“It’s not cute, Spencer. I just so happen to enjoy the historical aspects of any type of combat.” It was always better with Shawn to keep his replies short and to the point. Lassiter figured there were less annoying comments the less ammo he gave him.

Gus trailed up behind his friend. “Dude, lets go, the taco truck closes it’s window at 3 today and I’m not about to waste time here that would be better spent enjoying quality street cuisine.”

Shawn turned back to Lassiter, smiling brightly, he winked. Lassie looked pretty cute when he was embarrassed. The word did fit. “I’ll see you on Monday at the auditions. I’ll be wearing my lucky underwear for the occasion.”

Lassiter blinked, face drawn tightly neutral.

“They’re white with little pineapples on them. If you’d like to know whether I’m a boxers or briefs guy, you’ll have to see them yourself.” 

“Goodbye, Spencer.” He returned to typing on his computer while Gus rounded back to pull his friend towards the door. 

~~~~

There were three people on Monday in charge of running auditions and deciding who would become a part of Real Pirates. Cindy Washington was a 34 year old cook who’d been with the company for 5 years. Keith Weston’s father oversaw the handling of the ships. Spencer Simon was a new recruit for management this year and was being shown how auditions each year were run.

Cindy explained ground rules for the auditions and laid out what was being looked for in contestants. She also made it known that while this show only lasted a month and was performed three out of seven days a week, that crews were in constant rotation, and they were accepting new actors up until the third week.

There were only 6 people auditioning that morning, Shawn, Gus, Lassiter, Juliet, some guy named Robby, and a girl called Sally-Ann. And while Sally-Ann was able to impress the judges with her knowledge of the language at the time, and Robby was an amputee who brought along an actual hook-hand attachment, Shawn Spencer ended up making quite the impression with his imitation of Orlando Bloom’s character from the first pirates movie.

“It’s not often we get great actors in here,” Cindy said after Shawn’s performance. 

He laughed, brandishing a wide grin, “Oh no, I’m not an actor, I just watch a lot of television. But, I’m flattered, really.”

After Gus’ escapades with tap dancing pirates, and Lassiter’s real-to-life depiction of how guns were handled during that time, it was Juliet’s turn.

She charmed her way through a script found on Google, playing the part of a female pirate who was pretending to be a male in order to fight for her family.

“I loved the Mulan-esque aspect to this piece, Juliet,” remarked the other judge Keith. “Alright, that wraps up the auditions for today. Thank you all for coming, and be sure to check your emails tomorrow. We’ll be sending messages out to let you all know if you got the parts or not. You’re all dismissed!”

While the judges made their way back into their respective offices, Shawn decided to talk to the other two actors to see if he could find out any relevant information to be used in a future vision.

“So, Robby, is it? Do you come to these auditions a lot? Seems you have a nice advantage,” Shawn said pointing to his hand.

Robby was rummaging through his bag, putting his scripts away, but briefly looked up to reply. “Look, man, I appreciate the curiosity, but I’ve really got places to be.” He’d already headed for the door, but not fast enough that Shawn didn't notice the pin on his bag- a little brown house sitting below the words “Our Home Tavern.”

Meanwhile, Gus had gone to introduce himself to Sally-Ann.

“My name’s Burton Guster, but you can call me Captain Gus.”

Sally-Ann looked him up and down, blushing, she reached out to shake his hand. “I’m Sally-Ann. You can call me Sally-Ann.”

“I like that name,” he chuckled lightly, “But hey, listen, I couldn’t help but notice you really have the hang of all this pirate slang. If we both get cast, maybe I can take you out to dinner and you can teach me.”

“Gus, buddy!” Shawn, bounding over with a hand to his head in his typical fashion, interrupted the flirting. “I’ve had a vision, and I think it's worth checking out tonight.”

“A vision?” Sally-Ann looked quizzically at the man with perfectly-gelled hair.

“Shawn, I’d like you to meet Sally-Ann. Sally-Ann, this is my friend Shawn. He’s a psychic.”

“A psychic? Really? Is there anything you can tell me about my future?” She smiled Gus’ way and he smiled right back.

“Well, you know, my powers don’t really work on command…” Shawn trailed off as his observant eye kicked into gear and ran through every miniscule detail of this girl. Her bright blonde hair was tucked back into a tight ponytail, she was wearing a blue tshirt with an image of a dolphin on it, she had a small scar on her left forearm, the space where a ring might be was a slightly lighter shade than the rest of her hand… Bingo, that’s the one.

“I’m sensing that you’re recently single. But, unfortunately, Gus isn’t a good rebound, so I suggest you look elsewhere. Toodleloo!” Shawn ended by grabbing his friend’s arm and tugging him away, much to the surprised (and perhaps a bit frustrated) gaze on Sally-Ann’s face.

“Shawn, you are quite literally the worst wingman in history.”

“No time, Gus, I know exactly where Mr. Hookhand Robby works, and I think we should pay him a visit before Juliet and Lassie can figure anything out.”

“Fine. But I swear, the next time you do something like this, you’re getting the silent Guster treatment.”

~~~~

Scoping out Robby’s place of work was a bust. He was a pretty average bartender, but ended up being a pretty nice guy in the end. He gave Shawn and Gus both a free drink and they talked about his family’s winery over the most delicious greasy onion rings.

~~~~

The next morning, the emails were sent. And surprisingly enough, it looked like Robby and Sally-Ann both were given parts. In fact, it looked like everyone in that room was cast. Gus was the boatswain, a man in charge of ship maintenance. Juliet, who must have also garnished attention from the judges, actually did become a woman in disguise, as true to the times, there were very few female pirates. Shawn’s name was written beside “Quartermaster.” He had to ask Gus about this one, but learned it was a position of near equal value to the ship’s captain. Scanning the cast list for Captain, Shawn was shocked to find Lassiter’s name beside it.

He did the only logical thing he could do from his desk in the Psych office. He sent an email to Lassiter as a reply to the cast list, with the message:

Lassie,  
Every pilot needs a copilot, every Sonny needs a Cher. You’re the captain to my quartermaster! Here’s to our unbeatable pair!  
H & Ks,  
Shawn

He never got a reply, but it was fun to imagine the inevitable blush on the detective’s face before he promptly deleted the email.


	2. Chapter 2

Carlton Lassiter read over the message once more, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning back in his swivel chair.

“Whatcha got there?” Juliet slid up to his desk, smiling and bearing gifts of caffeinated (and heavily creamed and sugared) nature. She set one of the drinks on his desk and sidled over to glance at his computer screen.

“Absolutely nothing,” he said flatly, clicking delete before she could read the email.

“Soooo, are you ready for today?”

“You know, O’Hara, I think this might actually be kind of fun,” he admitted, shuffling a stack of papers into alignment before taking a sip of his coffee. The instant kick was a perfect start to his morning.

“Even if it means being right beside Shawn the whole time?” She hid her smirk in a gulp from her mug.

“It’s not something I’m choosing to focus on right now.” In one hand he held his mug, in the other he slowly twirled a ballpoint pen. “I’ll be damned if I let Spencer and his ridiculous antics ruin this for me. Besides, this is the next best thing to being paid for reenacting the battle of Piper’s Cove. Which by the way, wouldn’t earn a complaint from me.”

“Right,” said Juliet.

“And can’t we just go a single day without involving that idiot in conversation here? I’m the one in my zone with this, not him. If anything, I’ll be the one to get close enough to the suspects to get a confession out of one of them. They like others of their own kind, O’Hara, even if my civil war roles are much better than pirates.”

“I guess I have a thing or two to learn from you, Carlton.”

“You’re damn right.”

“Jules! Lassie!” Came a loud voice from behind them.

“Dammit,” muttered Lassiter, wheeling around in his chair. “Spencer. Wasn’t expecting to see you here now,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I had a vision of a middle-aged white guy with a fairly decently sized forehead, so I naturally thought of you, but it could very well be because me and Gus were watching reruns of Saved By the Bell last night.”

“Shawn, Lassiter’s forehead isn’t even large at all.” Gus shook his head.

“That’s fair,” he finally said, looking the head detective up and down. “But if you think I’d miss a chance to make references to a show we just watched, you’d be very wrong, Gus. Principal Belding really does have a pretty massive forehead, though.”

“You know that’s right,” Gus agreed.

“Why are we suddenly so fixated on foreheads?” Questioned Juliet from her position next to Lassiter.

“Have you never seen that show? That thing is bigger than Gus’ 3D topographic Pluto, which is really saying something-”

“Enough!” Lassiter quieted the bickering. “You’re all starting to give me a migraine, and I’d really appreciate if I could finish all these documents before I have to spend a whole week listening to more of this nonsense.”

Shawn scooted right up beside Lassiter, placing a palm flat against his forehead. “Since we’re still on the subject Lassie, you actually do have a rather nice forehead. However, you should loosen up a bit, your seething irritation with me is only going to deepen your wrinkles.”

“Get your hands off me,” Lassiter spit, shoving down the knot that arose deep in his stomach as soon as Shawn’s warm hand met his skin. “I’m going to need you to keep your weird forehead fetish away from me and everyone else in this station.”

Gus had already started to restrain his friend, pushing Shawn towards the door.

“Regardless Lassie, Gus and I just dropped by to pick up a check from the chief, so I’ll have to see you and your regal cranium in a few hours.”

As the pair made their way to Vick’s office, Juliet turned to Carlton, her mouth opening as she prepared to comment.

“Yeah, O’Hara, do me a favor and let’s never talk about this again.”

“Can do, Mr. Regal Cranium.” She laughed on the walk back to her desk.

The tips of Carlton’s ears burned red.

~~~~

It was 12pm sharp when Cindy Washington from auditions rounded up all the actors and introduced the newbies to the director, Jacob DeBakey, a 50ish year old man with a long grey beard and thick square glasses.

“Fellow pirates!” he bellowed, his chest expanding as he projected his voice to ensure everyone could hear. He was dressed about as stereotypical as you could get for a pirate, down to the eyepatch and hook hand. Shawn noticed amputee Robby’s visible distaste at the cruel plastic accessory.

The entire crew for this team of actors stood on the main deck, half-circled around Mr. DeBakey, paying close attention to his introductory speech for the day. 

“As many of you know, we have some new pirates with us today, so I’d highly expect the rest of you to both make them feel welcome, and to show them the ropes. More importantly, I’d like to introduce our new pirate captain.” DeBakey looked pointedly at Lassiter, beckoning him to stand front and center.

“Carlton Lassiter, sir,” he said, stepping forward.

“I’ve heard many a thing about you, Mr. Lassiter. I hope you know you were picked for your experience in reenactments.”

A small smile rose on the detective’s face.

“Everyone, give a warm welcome to your captain!”

The group clapped and cheered.

Lassiter took his place again besides Juliet, standing directly across Shawn and Gus. 

Shawn winked at Lassiter. He hoped nobody else noticed.

After the briefing, the actors were to break apart and go over their respective scripts with the other characters they’d be interacting with. Mr. DeBakey promised to walk around and help as needed.

Shawn Spencer slid up to Lassiter, script in hand, smile on his face.

“Hey Lassie, how’s it feel being captain?”

Lassiter briefly looked around to verify they were outside of earshot.

“You do realize this is still an undercover operation and we are still working,” he said quietly. “The time is not to play around and make jokes, we’re supposed to be scoping out possible suspects. Plus, I’m only captain because I have experience.”

“Well, also because the last guy quit after what he saw,” Shawn shrugged. “Gus isn’t the only one with a weak stomach.”

“O’Hara and I already briefed him, he’s got a clean alibi.”

“Good for you, Lass, always on top of things!”

“Spencer, please, can we just learn our damn lines already?” Lassiter tapped his foot impatiently against the wooden floor.

“Of course, it says we’re introduced walking out of the captain’s quarters. Why don’t we start in there and perhaps have a look around too while we’re at it?”

Carlton’s face contorted lightly, as close to a smile as he could currently manage. “That’s literally the only sensible thing you’ve said all morning.”

Walking in the door, the first thing they noticed was a rather long table sitting against an equally long window on the far wall, which was letting in plenty of natural light. The room itself was not very large, only enough to comfortably fit five or six people if they stood around the desk. It looked akin to an office, but with more pirate-like flare, including, but not limited to, a small treasure chest with golden coins spilling out, a fake parrot sitting on the back of the Captain’s chair, and a small table in the corner with a frilly lamp sitting on top.

“Look Lassie, you have your own pet parrot. We should give it a name, what do you want to call him? How about Mr. Feathers? No, too generic. How about Tommy Lee Jones?”

“Absolutely what does Tommy Lee Jones have to do with a damn parrot?”

“I’m not sure, he just told me psychically that’s what he’d like to be called.” Shawn walked over to pick up the stuffed parrot, flinging it right at the head detective. Carlton ducked and the stuffed parrot hit the wall. Its head fell off. 

“Lassie! You didn’t catch Tommy Lee Jones and now he’s dead!” He ran over to gently pick up the bird, cradling it in his arms with the head sitting tucked under one of its wings.

“For the love of- Would you stop touching things!” Lassiter didn’t hesitate to smack Tommy Lee Jones and his decapitated head right out of Shawn’s grasp. “We’re conducting an investigation, not playing with toys.” If this was an animated rendition of Carlton’s life, this would surely be a smoke-coming-from-the-ears moment.

Shawn opened the desk drawers, combing through various items that had no place on a pirate ship, like an empty pack of cigarettes and a three-hole punch.

“Perhaps there really is no evidence in here and we should just work on our lines,” Shawn expressed genuine boredom.

“Huh, no psychic visions then?”

At that moment, Jacob DeBakey burst through the door to grab them for their costume fittings.

~~~~

Shawn and Lassiter met back up with Gus on land, where there was a costume trailer waiting for them. Sally-Ann exited the trailer, followed by Juliet. They were both wearing similar costumes inspired by courageous women dressed as male pirates undercover. Juliet felt undercover in more ways than one, but she enjoyed the terse look Shawn and Lassiter gave her. It incited pride to know she still looked attractive, even covered in seven layers.

Carlton was called up and stepped inside, leaving Shawn and Gus alone as Juliet and Sally-Ann made their way back to the ship. Gus flicked a finger across his nose and smiled at Sally-Ann. Shawn rolled his eyes.

“So, did you find anything worth a psychic vision?” Gus asked.

“Nah, not really. I just talked with Lassie. Oh, and he might have aided in the death of a parrot named after Kay from Men in Black, but that’s no longer important.”

“Alright Shawn, so basically this was a massive waste of time. Wonderful.”

“What, you didn’t find anything out?” 

“You must be out of your damn mind if you think I wasn’t charming the socks off Sally-Ann. She’s a really nice girl, Shawn. I’m taking her out to dinner on Saturday at Red Robin.”

Shawn laughed, “Buddy, Red Robin? Come on son, that’s too good, even for her. Besides, what if she killed Ian McIvor, Gus? You can’t betray The Robin like that by allowing a murderer access to bottomless french fries and Nana-Nana Moo-Moos. That’s a crime in itself, I’d bet.”

“She’s not a murderer, Shawn. Like I said, she’s a really nice girl. Also, she watches the Spelling Bee every year. She’s practically perfect for me. Nobody who watches The Bee murders people, Shawn. They’re too busy being intelligent and sophisticated.”

“Um, Gus, we literally had a murder case that occured at the Spelling Bee, so i’d advise you hold your tongue, buddy.”

Gus’ face went slack and he frowned at Shawn, crossing his arms in distaste, but not arguing further.

Just then, Carlton emerged from the trailer, fully dressed as the captain character.

“Damn, look at Captain Lassie!” Exclaimed Shawn happily.

He wore a long red coat that reached past his knees, adorned with bright golden buttons. He had on a red hat to match, and a wig that gave him the appearance of having a glorious mane of jet black hair. His boots clinked as he stepped down the foldable stairs.

“What?” He questioned, wondering why Spencer was staring at him with that expression of adoration on his face. He crinkled his nose in confusion and furrowed his brows.

“Man, you look awesome! I’ll be satisfied if my costume makes me look half as good as yours does!”

Mr. DeBakey stuck his head out of the door and called for Shawn. He didn’t look back, afraid Lassiter might notice the flush creeping across his face.

~~~~

It was a late lunch, but Shawn and Gus had scored themselves some food from the festival; buttered beer bread and modern-day soda. Lassiter had taken off with Juliet and the two had returned with Subway sandwiches. All four had met at a bench on the pier, eating lunch together besides the light spray of the churning sea.

“Detectives, your lunch isn’t very authentic,” said Shawn accusitorily.

“Yeah, well, neither is your Cherry Coke, Spencer,” Lassiter said with a bite full of ham and cheese.

“They were really missing out then, this stuff is delicious. Wanna try some?” He shoved the half full can towards the head detective. Lassiter simply rolled his eyes and ignored him.

It was only after Shawn had come back from the costume trailer that he really begun to feel fully in character. It was the whole kit and caboodle, his aesthetic transformation into a pirate completed his mental one. Mr. DeBakey had given him a bona fide tricorne hat, and for that, he was very appreciative.

“You know, guys, it’s been fun, but I’m heading back to share some of this bread with Sally-Ann.” Gus stood up matter of factly and just walked off towards the Queen Marie.

“Gus! Gus, you can’t leave me alone here! We haven’t even gotten our churros yet!”

Shawn slumped down, but quickly shrugged, sitting back up to sip more of his soda.

Juliet nodded, standing up, “If you’ll excuse me now gentlemen, I’ll also be heading back aboard the ship. I was never the best at memorizing lines. Robby is helping me, so I can also double up on the undercover interrogation.”

Just like that, the space between Shawn and Lassiter on the pier bench was closed as the psychic scooted closer, only leaving about six inches between them.

Carlton glanced over, but content to ignore the advancements, continued staring ahead at the seagulls circling the water.

“So, Lassieface, since Gus has disappeared off to spend time with his possibly-murdering new girlfriend, how about coming with me to get some churros?”

“You know what?” Lassiter put on a charming smile and placed a hand on Shawn’s shoulder, shaking him in a playful manner. “Why don’t you go off then and get us some churros?”

Irregardless of the sarcasm in his tone, It wasn’t like he’d never touched Shawn before. In fact, they seemed to be stuck in a state of on-and-off-again contact for years. Yet, somehow, the way that the psychic stiffened under his touch and went silent was a reaction he wasn’t really expecting. It contrasted every reaction prior that Shawn had ever had to these touches. It struck Carlton so off balance in fact, that he reeled his hand back and looked away.

“I’m-I’m gonna go get some. I’ll be right back.”

Shawn dashed off leaving Carlton alone in his head, wondering why he was thinking so much.  
Yet, by the time Shawn returned, he was nothing like how he’d been just a few minutes prior. 

“Lassie! I bring gifts of cinnamon sustenance!” He thrust a hand out, handing the bigger of the two churros to Lassiter. He sat down again, this time just a few inches further away. 

Shawn Spencer was never good at serious interactions, especially those riddled with heavy sexual tension. The more time he spent alone with Lassiter, the harder it was to deny the reality of his crush on the man. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what had started to change between them so recently, but Shawn was no stranger to ‘faking it until you’re making it.’ The whole pirates thing was throwing him all out of whack in sorts, he supposed. It was like a giant hand was dangling the most scrumptious looking churro right above his head and it was only going to be a matter of time before he jumped for it. Whether or not he could grab ahold was no longer up to him.

Lassiter was like the giant hand in this analogy. A giant, long-fingered hand, calloused from all that gun-holding, thick and strong, with a tight grip on his heart. Shawn didn’t think the teasing was on purpose, in fact, he knew it was anything but. Yet Shawn also knew this hand would never dangle a churro in front of him on purpose, because Lassiter didn’t want this, didn’t want him. Those were the cold and hard facts.

~~~~

After lunchtime, the actors all returned to the ship to continue practicing. While Shawn and Carlton did practice together briefly, they both agreed it was best to continue snooping around by themselves.

“To cover more ground,” Lassiter had said. What was really motivating him wasn’t this; he needed a breather from Spencer. If he were honest with himself, a little distance might be good right now before the awkwardness of the smallest interactions swallowed him whole.

Shawn met up with Gus and Sally-Ann down in the crew’s quarters inside the ship itself.

As was the trick of the trade, he begun to ask Sally-Ann questions about the night that the body was found, doing his best not to sound like a cop.

“I wasn’t there that night. Sad story, but that guy Ian was kind of weird and nobody talked to him except his girlfriend.”

“Who was his girlfriend?” Shawn asked.

Gus sat beside Sally-Ann with a hand on her knee, a supportive gesture that doubled as flirtation.

“Her name is Kelly Watson, she runs one of the carnival booths on the pier. I believe it’s that one where you throw darts and try to pop the balloons. I really don’t know much about her, I’ve only talked to her once. She gave the vibe of that kind of girl that really doesn’t like interacting with many other people.”

The three were sitting in the hull of the ship, swaying back and forth lightly as the ocean waves hit against the boat. Shawn was glad for Gus that he was wearing his Scopolamine patch, otherwise he’d probably be throwing up right now.

There were only a few small lanterns hanging at various points along the interior, which meant the best light currently was coming from the holes in the side of the ship that the cannons stuck out of. It really wasn’t the biggest space, and certainly explained why the number of audience members allowed on the ship at one time wasn’t all that many.

Shawn thought of Lassiter, wondering what he’d think about these cannons. He’d probably think they were interesting; probably get some historian pleasure from running his hands along their cold surfaces. Shawn briefly wondered what it would feel like to have Lassie run his hands along his warm surfaces.

“Shawn!” Gus whispered, elbowing his best friend in the side.

The psychic glanced around, noticing Sally-Ann’s absence. “What, Gus?” Whined Shawn. His attempts at normalcy only passed because he was never normal anyway. 

“You know this totally means we gotta go check out this Kelly girl, right? This case so far has been one big bust and I’m not about to lose this one to Lassiter and Juliet. Man, you love this pirate thing, you’re in your zone. We got this!”

It’s true. Shawn did find the ‘pirate thing’ fascinating and fun in his own way. He ran several fingers down the seams of his coat, which had already begun to feel such a big part of this identity he was supposed to take on. Sure, he’d always be the friendly, neighborhood psychic detective, but for a few weeks he was Quartermaster Spencer, liege to Captain Lassie. 

For once, a case felt less like a case, and more like walking down a dark tunnel with an unknown exit. And the scariest part was he couldn’t really figure out why.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not in medical school yet, so don't blame me if I got any medical or pharmacological facts incorrect. Everything I know is either from my schooling in surgical technology or google dot com :-)  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless!

The next day Shawn didn’t see Lassiter, Juliet, or anyone else involved with the police investigation. 

He had begun his day meeting with Gus to have breakfast together at IHOP before taking the Blueberry back over to the pirate festival to check out Ian’s girlfriend who worked at the balloon-popping dart booth. (Or at least that’s what Sally-Ann had told them; it actually ended up being that one where a group of people compete against each other to spray a target that fills up a balloon and the winner is whoever pops it first. But both involved balloons, so Shawn wasn’t upset. Either way, how can anyone be upset when balloons are involved?)

But first, Shawn had to share with Gus the new found deliciousness of this festival’s churros. And Gus agreed, they were quite delicious indeed. 

“I can’t believe you bought a churro for Lassiter,” Gus remarked with a mouthful of cinnamon covered fried dough.

“You know, I think he agreed with me Gus. These things are incredible! Lassie totally ate the whole thing, too.”

“I feel cheated, Shawn, that you didn’t share this first impression with me.” 

“Oh come on Gus, don’t be the inevitably long line for the Ferris wheel that’s actually longer than the Ferris wheel itself. You chose to go off to hang out with your girlfriend instead.”

“And you chose to hang out with yours,” Gus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Gus!” Shawn scoffed, “Lassie is not my girlfriend! If someone had to be the girl, it would probably be me anyway. He’s got me beat by far in the manly-man department.”

Shawn tried his hardest not to think about all the different ways Lassiter could surely make him feel like a girl. He tried and failed, but you win some and you lose some. Right?

“Well, true. But you and Lassiter? Not in a million years, big guy. Also, Sally-Ann is not my girlfriend, we’re just seeing where things lead.” Gus shrugged.

“Now is not the time to have a conversation about my sexuality, man. Let’s go find this girl and stop discussing highly improbable hypothetical scenarios.”

“You mean highly impossible scenarios, Shawn,” said Gus pointedly.

Truth be told, that stung a bit. Shawn had wanted to say he’d heard it both ways, but the fear snuck in that told him he’d probably already said too much. Shawn had already spent the majority of his life feeling like he wasn’t cut out for success and that he’d never amount to anything. That included a serious successful relationship.

The turbulence of a childhood growing up with Henry constantly making him feel like a failure had carried over into a full-grown tornado of insecurities in his adult life. Of course Carlton Lassiter wouldn’t want him in that way, even if he wasn’t as straight as a nail.

But Gus knew Shawn wasn’t fully straight ever since he had found his best friend kissing Tommy Scoville behind the gym in the seventh grade. That had been a shocking discovery, but they seemed to patch things up enough to where it never became something to dwell on any longer. 

So Shawn Spencer was bisexual, and that didn’t leave him off any more secure in who he was. A million and one jobs later, none longer than two months (besides Psych, that is), no relationship longer than three, and it was no surprise he turned out the way he did.

So even though his best friend’s blatant disbelief in a possible relationship with Lassiter stung right in his tender places, it wasn’t something Shawn hadn’t already known. A crush is a crush, and nothing more. Denial was how he got by, and how strong of a weapon denial could be indeed.

“Can I interest you boys in starting a game?”

Shawn looked up to see they’d stopped in front of a booth, and he noticed the nametag on this girl; It read Kelly and had a little sticker of a buzzing bee beside her name.

She was young looking, a small and pretty little thing, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Big round glasses made her bright green eyes stand out on her soft face.

“Kelly,” said Shawn with a smile. 

“That’s my name,” she smiled. She was cute, and that momentarily made Shawn forget to think about Lassiter. If even for a bit, the mental rest was needed.

“We’re just taking a walk and exploring the festivities and their delicious menus,” said Gus. “I’m Gus, and this is Shawn. We’re actors in the pirates show.”

It was subtle, but Kelly’s face fell just the slightest bit. 

“It’s pretty neat. Have you checked it out yet?” Shawn asked, leaning against the counter. His eyes had already begun to scan her for any clues.

Kelly sighed, suddenly looking exhausted. “My boyfriend used to be a part of that. He passed away last Wednesday. There was a whole police investigation and I think they ruled it a suicide.”

“Wow,” Shawn feigned surprise.

“Truthfully, I don’t think it was, but there’s nothing I can really do to convince anyone. I already talked to the cops and told them everything I know.” She sat down on her own seat behind the counter, idly messing with her hair. “Ian wasn’t like that. He was happy. He played baseball with his friends every weekend, loved trying all the new foods he could, was always walking his dog. Little Sammy is mine now and I won’t ever let him go. I loved Ian so much, and I just..” Tears started to fall down Kelly’s face, slowly but surely. “I miss him. He was going to be a doctor someday. Ian was the most motivated man I’ve ever known.”

Shawn didn’t even have to glance over to know that ‘sympathetic crier Gus’ was at it again.

“We’re so sorry to hear that,” Gus whined through his tears. “I can’t imagine how terrible this has been for you.”

A group of three young boys interrupted the crying fest, running over with their father in tow. 

“Dad, let’s play!”

“Oh, please Dad!”

The poor father looked overworked and just too plain tired to deny them.

Kelly wiped her tears, looking back over to Shawn and Gus.

“I’m sorry guys, do you still want to play? As long as there’s at least five people you can win the big prize.”

Shawn Spencer, the near perfect shot, was the obvious winner. All the boys wanted to do was complain the game was rigged and drag their poor dad off to try another carnival game.

~~~~

As Shawn and Gus were heading towards the temporary installment of a small pirate-themed ferris wheel, Woody the coroner gave them a call.

“Woody!” Shawn said excitedly into the microphone. “Please tell me you’ve got something for us.”

He pressed the speaker button so Gus could hear.

“I just wanted to let you guys know that the tox screens for Ian McIvor did come back, and it’s confirmed that he died from an overdose of atropine. So this very well could have been murder and should of course be investigated further.”

Shawn and Gus thanked him and said goodbye before the conversation could continue into some weird Woody territory. The last time he had them on the line he started to discuss his grandmother’s open-casket funeral and how curious he had been to perform her own autopsy himself.

The ride line was actually surprisingly short, but the friends got to ride for free since they were now technically “employees” of the festival.

“So, what’s the word Mr. Pharmaceuticals?” Shawn asked as they were locked down into their cubicle; this one had a cartoon image of a ship wheel on the side of it. “What do you know about a pine tree?”

“Atropine, Shawn,” Gus corrected. “Well, atropine is one of those drugs that can be used for a wide variety of different conditions. It’s an anticholinergic, which means-”

“Woah!” Shawn interrupted the further spewing of his friend’s medical jargon. “An anti-colon-what? Can you stop being so prideful and just explain it to me in simpler terms please?”

“Ok,” said Gus, sounding quite miffed. “It blocks acetylcholine in the nervous system, but that’s such a broad category in itself. It can work on many places in the body, like the heart, the stomach and intestines, it can decrease salivation before an operation; It’s even used in eye surgery as a mydriatic.”

“A what?” Shawn flatlined.

“Sorry, work mode,” Gus apologized. “It dilates the pupils. But It’s hard to say if he overdosed himself on accident, or if it was given purposely in a high dose. Depending on the dose, I’d say for sure that it would at least cause a myriad of unpleasant symptoms, if not shut down the heart entirely.” He paused for a moment, looking down all of about 20 feet as their car stopped at the top. “Shawn,” he gulped, “Remind me why we went on this thing?”

Shawn, doing his best to ignore Gus’ pleading look, pointed outwards towards the Queen Marie.

The massive ship was docked at the harbor, gently waving with the breeze sliding inland from the sea. His eyes scanned the area, happy to get a bird’s eye view of the scenery. Ok, they weren’t all that high, so maybe this bird was a little stunted, but it flew along all the same.

“Oh come on, buddy. Look around! It’s beautiful from up here, don’t you think?” Said Shawn, now glancing over towards the parking lot. “And there’s the Blueberry in all its glory!”

Shawn stuck his lips out, tilting his head in thought, zeroing in on a bright orange sports car parked in the corner the main lot. Only a few cars away from Gus’, It stuck out like a sore thumb among the grays and whites of various soccer mom vans and the few beater cars most likely owned by the occasional basement-dweller who had passed them at the fair. It wasn’t the kind of car he’d ever choose to drive, but for some reason it was memorable, and definitely hadn’t been there when they’d arrived.

The second the ride returned to the ground, Gus was happiest of all to be on his own two feet again. 

Soon enough, the two friends arrived back at the car and Gus pressed the button on the fob to unlock it. The blueberry beeped its hello.

“You think Kelly could have done it? She was wearing glasses, Gus.” Shawn climbed into the passenger seat as Gus stepped into the driver’s side. Talking with his best friend about any theories he had became second nature after so many years of their detective partnership. “Maybe she had recent surgery or something and swiped some meds.”

“I’m no expert on emotions, but that crying was real Shawn. No, I think this is something else. He was in medical school, however. Maybe he did get the atropine himself. Hard to say, really. We need to look into this further before we tell anyone what we know.” Gus started the car and they drove off to get some real dinner.

After testing out the Red Robin that Gus insisted they scope out before his date on Saturday, he and Shawn went back to the Psych office to do some research.  
And ‘research’ meant Gus spending about ten minutes on his pocket medical dictionary before the two friends decided to watch a movie and relax for a few hours.

After a marathon of both Gremlins movies, and a short squabble about whether or not they’d be up for the challenge of being a mogwai owner, Shawn and Gus were both too tired to continue pretending like they came to the office to do actual research and went their separate ways to sleep for the night.

Shawn dreamt of pirate captain Lassiter’s hands and how those calloused fingers would feel running down his sides.

~~~~

“Oh Laaaaasie!” Shawn called out, waving something in his man child hands.

Carlton sighed. He and Juliet had just arrived to the Queen Marie and were standing on the main deck waiting for everyone else to join them for rehearsal. The sun was just starting to peek up over the horizon, washing the ship’s wooden floor in golden morning light. 

Shawn bounded up the steps holding what appeared to be a teddy bear in his hand. Gus run up behind him, an uncoordinated mess of a man complaining about his bunion flare up.

“Spencer,” Carlton tried to dampen his reaction as much as possible. 

“I brought you a present,” Shawn said smiling, pushing the stuffed animal towards the detective. It was a fuzzy tan bear with an eyepatch and a little pirate hat sewn on with what looked like a half-assed effort. “I won this at the fair for you yesterday. I had to battle against four prepubescent boys for it.”

“Um, Shawn, there were only three of them. I was playing too,” said Gus.

“Really? I could have sworn the fourth party was also a small child based on his reaction.”

Gus gave Shawn a death glare that made Juliet half-smile and raise an eyebrow. 

“Thanks, Spencer,” Carlton grumbled, flushing only in the slightest, mostly from embarrassment.  
Shawn most definitely picked that up, and as per usual, made it a point to humiliate Carlton to shift any focus off of himself.

“Look, he’s blushing,” Shawn said with a smirk, causing both Juliet and Gus to turn their heads.

Lassiter growled low in his throat. “Spencer. A word?”

“Sure thing Lass,” said the psychic, bounding over towards the head detective with a skip in his step.

“I’m not going to waste my time beating around the bush,” said Lassiter. “In the efforts of preventing any more of this getting around, I’d like to be the first to tell you that you were right and I was wrong.”

“Say what?”

Shawn and Lassiter stood against one wall of the vessel- the one closest to the lightly churning sea. The breeze was making Shawn’s hair flutter and Carlton felt his stomach mimic those rhythms. 

Admitting he was wrong was one thing, but admitting Spencer was correct was another. And straight to the man’s face, no doubt. 

“Woody let O’Hara and I know that McIvor overdosed. This was probably murder and I should have believed you sooner.”

“Awe, Lassie, look at you!” Shawn delighted in the way he made the tips of Carlton’s ears grow pink and his face draw tighter in discomfort. He didn’t think a day would ever come where he thought this side of Lassiter wasn’t the tiniest bit cute. “I won’t make this harder on you than it needs to be,” Shawn placed a hand on the detective’s shoulder, warm and sure. “But thank you for having the courage to admit you were wrong.”

Carlton made no move to brush Shawn’s hand free from the contact, just stood frozen still.

“Either way, don’t you think I already knew about the atropine before you did?” Shawn reeled his hand back to place two fingers on his temple.

“I still don’t believe you’re psychic, but I’ll admit, that was pretty specific. Alright, I’ve had enough deep conversation with you for the next ten damn years of my life.” 

As Lassiter pushed away and walked back towards his partner, Shawn wondered if he’d even know Lassiter for the next ten years. He at least hoped that answer was yes.

~~~~

Mr. DeBakey showed up not too long after everyone else had arrived and started the day with an hour more of running lines. Most actors only got a few words of critique, but the newbies’ only job was to try their best to get off book as soon as they could.

Shawn had had his lines down within minutes of seeing his script for the first time, so his only current mission was trying to help one handsome undercover detective learn his.

But meanwhile, up on the crow’s nest amidst the sails, Detective O’Hara was doing a little bit of recon on her own. Yet, she wasn’t alone for long. A few minutes in, and a man climbed up the riggings, chiming his hello and making her jump.

Juliet put down her police-issued set of binoculars, mumbling something about her vivid pastime of birdwatching.

The man smiled at her, stepping up to stand beside her.

“Are you Juliet?” His smile was bright, happy, calm. “If so, the director asked me to come find you and run a few lines.”

She stumbled over her words, caught in the middle of looking over the crowds deep in thought. “Y-yeah, that’d be me.”

“Cool,” he said. “I’m Joey.” He seemed sweet, a 30-something with slicked back hair and freckles covering his cheeks. “Are you still checking out Santa Barbara’s seagull population, or would you like to come with me and do some run-throughs?” He reminded her a bit of Shawn, perhaps how he’d be if he had no gifts and was instead a full time manager at Starbucks.

“Sure,” she smiled.

A few run-throughs later, and they were laughing together sitting with their legs dangling off the edge of the poop deck.

“So, Joey, how did you get into acting?” Juliet asked. Sure, he was attractive, but she was 100% work mode, and reminded herself to grab any information she could about anything she could.

“Well, my drama teacher in high school actually motivated me. I was kind of goaded into auditioning for the spring production of Hamlet, but after I landed the main role, I ended up really fascinated with Shakespeare’s work. You could say I’m a bit of a closeted geek, really.”

“Not at all,” Juliet said smiling, “I don’t know another playwright more known that William Shakespeare. Although, I must admit, I don’t know many others besides Romeo and Juliet- and that isn’t just because of the name!” 

Joey chuckled, and they talked for a bit longer about his other favorite plays by the same writer.

~~~~

Next on the to-do list was a total walk through. Director DeBakey walked through the boat as if he were leading a captive audience, allowing the people who weren’t reading their lines to stand behind him and quietly observe. He watched Shawn and Lassiter introduce the show, Juliet’s scene with Sally-Ann, a group of three men discussing sailing in more detail, followed by Juliet’s second appearance with Joey manning the cannons. And all was well until the scene with the boatswain.

“Avast ye landlubbers, I’m the boatswain here on this beautiful boat!” Gus emerged from behind the mess of rigging, a spiderweb of tangled rope attaching the sails. “It is my duty here to provide maintenance for the sails, to inspect the sails, to approve the sails, and to report their status to the captain.” Here, he motioned to the previous spot where Shawn and Lassiter had stood during their introduction, imagining they’d still be standing there.

Gus then gestured to a man atop the main mast. In a circular wooden half-cage, a man stood dressed in simple garb, using a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and staring ahead. 

“Ar, this the lookout boy now. As we sail, he will stand watch from the crow’s nest, looking far into the distance, ready to shout and ring a bell at any sign of trouble.” 

The boatswain walked a few steps, explaining the complex anatomy of the sails as he read the more detailed lines from his script.

“Gus, watch out!” Shawn suddenly shouted from the crowd, voice laced with alarm.

Mr. DeBakey threw Shawn a look of distaste for the interruption, but just as quickly wheeled his head as Gus walked right back into a pile of barrels stacked a few feet from the mast.

He tripped backwards, falling right into them, a few knocking over. 

One in particular, rolled a bit from its previous place on the bottom of the stack, and came to rest with the open end facing the crowd.

Gasps were quickly heard, and Shawn looked over to see a body hanging out from the barrel, looking blanched and quite dead. As soon as he noticed the lacking left arm, he could tell it was Robby.

“Ya know,” said Gus carefully, “If this was a real show right now, I’d probably cover by calling for the Queen Marie’s surgeon, but since this is a run through, I don’t feel bad about doing this.” He then took off running towards the other end of the ship as fast as he could.

Shawn watched as Lassiter growled, “Oh crap,” and stepped off undetected to alert the chief for backup.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight mentions of NSFW towards the end. Yar been warned, arg ;-)

The police arrived quicker than anyone expected them to. Mostly because Lassiter had been so quick to pull his phone; pretty quick, but clearly not as quick as his ability to discharge his firearm. 

Best believe he’d wanted to. Wanted so badly to pull out his gun from it’s hidden holster and tell everyone onboard to evacuate to the pier and leave the police work to the detectives. He could feel the adrenaline of the chase rush down his veins, his hand shaking slightly as he made a call to the chief that there had been another murder. 

And as the chief and the uniformed officers and the coroners and the slew of other professionals gathered at the scene, all he could think of was how wrong he’d been. But of course Spencer was right. He was always right. He’d show up and wave his hands about like a toddler just learning to use them and he’d solve the case and make Lassiter look like a complete fool of a detective. Or at least, that’s how he felt. 

The chief had pulled Gus aside already, questioning him under the guise he was a civilian who had found a body, which Lassiter supposed wasn’t entirely incorrect. 

This body clean-up and detective analysis went by as usual, as things of this nature did for the SBPD. But feeling like a defenseless civilian, even with the hidden glock, Lassiter undercover was unhappy being forbid to participate. So he’d sulked back to the captain’s quarters, closing himself in the small room that nestled him just enough right against-

_Spencer?_

Shawn’s back was turned while he rustled through some of the small drawers on the side wall. Of course, he was only sneaking away for another attempt at snooping around in the hopes of stumbling across anything else that could be considered evidence to either murder.

Lassiter went stiff as he felt his back against a warm body, but upon turning around and seeing it was only Shawn, he softened, if even a bit. Spencer may not have been their cold-hearted murderer, but he was still dangerous. Dangerous to Lassiter in both the pride department and the heart one. 

“Hey, Lassie! You found me!” Shawn chuckled, seemingly unphased by the closeness they shared in the little room.

The detective grunted, “Where did O’Hara go? I was looking for her and- shouldn’t you be with Guster?

“ _Gus_ is talking to the chief, and I believe Jules was talking to McNab, but I can’t be sure. Fairly certain most people are off the ship right now.” He’d turned completely away from the wall, as if he’d never been riffling through any drawers of any sort.

“What are you even doing in here? Why aren’t you down on the dock with everyone else, trying to read people or whatnot?”

“You know I’m truly not a people person, right Lassie? I prefer solitude. Perhaps the company of Gus and one other, but I actually do enjoy being alone sometimes. I’m sure you understand,” Shawn was smiling, a twinkle in his eyes, “But anyway, I’m looking for something. I seem to have misplaced my He-Man keychain, and I can just feel the withering of my psychic powers.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m a loner with no friends or girlfriends? I definitely have friends.”

“No girlfriend then? ...Or boyfriend?” Shawn asked with a sneer. 

“I am not gay, Spencer.” Lassiter rolled his eyes, not willing to drop the front he’d always put up. But truthfully, he couldn’t fully be sure. He’d never actually been with a man. Not that the thought hadn’t arose, though. He’d certainly been curious before, but being with women had always been the easier option.

“Did you know that from a psychological standpoint, that not using contractions can indicate being untruthful? Sure there’s not anything you wanna fess up?” Lassiter wasn’t positive, but it looked liked Shawn was blushing a tad. Yet he covered it well with that devious little smirk of his.

Carlton needed to get out of there before he let anything slip. “Well, good luck finding your stupid keychain.” He went to leave, but found Spencer’s arm had latched onto his shoulder, pulling him back. 

Carlton Lassiter was ironically like a squirrel in a lot of ways. He liked to run around willy-nilly with no direction whatsoever it seemed. He was skittish, extremely so. Any quick movements or abrupt words could easily scare him off. He exhibited his power over criminals much like a squirrel would taunt a dog from the safety of a high branch, as if he were over every single one of them. Which he was, and that just proved the point further. 

Yet the reason for Shawn spinning these analogies was only to see just how far he could take them. Like the fact that most squirrels loved nuts, and staring right into Carlton’s hugely dilated pupils made Shawn grin at the possibility.

“Do you like nuts?” Shawn blurted out before having the chance to activate his filter. Not that his filter was strong at all, it was like an unused muscle, weak and gimpy and out of practice. 

Carlton’s eyes darkened further, “Excuse me?” His stance was defensive as he pulled away from Shawn’s grasp.

“I mean- I saw a bowl of salted cashews in the dressing room earlier, and I was just thinking how much my mouth was craving something salty. Wait. No. I mean- A snack sounds nice right about now. I love putting nuts in my mouth. I MEAN-“

“What the hell are you talking about?” Lassiter’s mind was spinning. He’d never seen Spencer this flustered, and that was saying something.

“Man, I don’t even know!” Shawn yelped, crossing his arms in an attempt to prevent himself from touching Lassiter again.

It was weird, somehow oddly satisfying seeing Shawn so bent out of shape. Lassiter almost found pleasure in seeing the other man so uncomfortable, even if nothing he was doing directly caused that. Yet, his front remained and he was unwilling to break it. Not here, not now.

“Goodbye, Spencer,” said Lassiter in the most monotonous manner he possibly could. And as he walked out and down towards the docks, towards freedom, an epiphany came to him. 

There was a very good chance at this point that Shawn Spencer was actually crushing on him.

~~~

Karen paced back and forth behind her desk, impatient and irritated. 

Then Shawn burst through the door with a big red popsicle in one hand and a yellow one currently being held in his mouth.

“Chief! Sorry for the delay, I walked here from down the street because there wasn’t any parking for some reason. So make this quick because I much prefer to keep watch over my bike.” He made an obnoxiously loud slurping sound with his popsicle. 

Gus, Lassiter, Juliet, and the chief all just stared at him with emotionless faces. 

“What!?” He yelped, feeling four pairs of eyes burning right through him. Then, clearing his throat, he thrust the red popsicle out towards Lassiter. “Hey Lassie, I bought you one from that ice cream store down the street. They were having a special. I seriously never thought I’d enjoy organic popsicles, but seriously try this it’s incredible!” 

“Not interested,” Carlton said, shaking his head. 

“Dibs!” Said Gus, breaking the facade out of curiosity and popping the icy treat in his mouth. “Oh wow, strawberry!”

“I managed to grab the last pineapple one, and man, is it delicious!”

“Gentlemen, please!” Karen nearly face palmed.

Shawn stopped smiling so widely and took a seat, quietly nibbling on the tip of his popsicle. It made Lassiter shift in his chair so he looked away.

“I’ve called you all here to catch up on the McIvor case and see if we’re collectively making any headway.” Karen finally took her own seat, relaxing back into her fancy recliner.

Juliet piped up. “You know chief, let me just speak for the group and say that I think the recon is going great so far. We’re all blending very well and nobody seems to suspect a thing. In fact, It’s been quite easy to meld and obtain important information.”

“I have to agree,” Shawn said with a mouthful of frozen pineapple concentrate, “I think Jules is absolutely correct. I’m having quite a bit of fun on this assignment. Sure, I’m able to psychically pick up on information from the other actors, but-” He swallowed a large piece, his throat bobbing visibly.

“I think what Shawn is trying to say,” Gus sounded defensive, “Is that we’re making good progress.”

“Good progress, huh?” Karen wiped a strand of hair from her face and rolled her shoulders with a pop. “Have you divinned anything yet worth sharing with the group?”

Again, all eyes were on Shawn. He laughed nervously and finished the popsicle in one bite, pulling it back off the stick. Lassiter stiffened, but his face showed nothing.

“Well, little things here and there. Nothing like a major break yet; the spirits are taking their sweet time with this puzzle, chief.” Inwardly, he thought of Ian’s girlfriend, of the fancy car, of an odd stain he’d noticed on Robby’s lapel as the coroners were examining the body. “Nope, still working on it.”

The chief briefly discussed something with Juliet, but Shawn had already tuned everything else out. Before long, she was dismissing them.

Gus and Shawn met up in the hallway and scooted down the hall together to talk outside. 

“Anything?” Gus asked as he opened the door so they could walk down the front steps of the precinct. 

“Ketchup. Or maybe blood. Or perhaps Robby had also tried one of those delicious popsicles, but I can’t be sure. I’m sure it’s possible flavors that good can kill, Gus.”

“Where did you see that?”

“On his jacket. I caught a glimpse of the body when it was being zipped up in one of those black bags. It was some sort of purple-red stain.”

Gus stopped, causing his friend to do the same, looking back at him in confusion. “Well, the body is probably downstairs already. You think there’s any chance of us sneaking in and taking a closer look?”

Shawn broke out in a smile. “Gus! This is why I need you, man. I need your sharp focus and long attention span.” He came to pat Gus’s chest, a happy bro tap.

“You were thinking about those popsicles again, weren’t you?”

“That is entirely irrelevant. Onward!” Shawn cried, running back towards the police station and crouching behind a bush as a group of officers walked down the stairs.

~~~

Woody pulled his magnifying goggles up onto his forehead, looking up as Shawn and Gus opened the door as silently as they could and snuck through the door.

“Good going Gus, your ‘jackal’ was entirely too loud.”

“No. No you are not going to pin this on the jackal. He’s good, Shawn. He’s so good!”

“Boys! You’re welcome down here anytime, no worries at all. But Gus, your ‘jackal’ was fine. It’s just always much too silent down here. I think if it wasn’t, then we’d have issues!” He chuckled and crunched down on a carrot. 

“Woody, my good man, I’ve had a vision. It led me down here to this room and to _this_ body!” He exaggeratedly gestured to the drape on the slab, covering what he assumed was Robby’s corpse.

Woody sighed loudly in response, “Oh, for a second I thought you’d seen my toenail collection.”

Gus looked over at the coroner with a look of intense confusion. 

“Uh, actually, let’s just forget I said any of that.” He stood up, tossing the end of the carrot into the trash. “What can I help you guys with?”

“Forgotten,” Shawn muttered.

“Shawn had a vision of a stain on Robby’s shirt,” said Gus, straightening up, “We were just wondering if you would give us a closer look.”

“Ah!” the coroner exclaimed, “Unfortunately, _that_ body is already gone. The family requested for someone’s creepy uncle to look at it.” He paused. “But what I can tell you is that it was wine.”

“Wine?” Shawn asked. 

“Well that’s not helpful at all, his family owns a winery.” Gus shrugged in defeat. 

“Do you know what kind of wine it was?” Shawn asked as though that was any relevant piece of information.

“You’re talking to the biggest wine junkie on the market, so you’ve certainly come to the right place. This was some sort of mead, most likely cranberry.” He tilted his head in thought. “It’s an oldie, but a goodie, boys.”

“So if that’s not Robby, who is it?” Gus asked hesitantly, pointing to the covered form on the table.

“Oh, this?” Woody pulled the sheet up to reveal about 15 large bags of carrots “I’m doing a carrot cleanse. Someone made a post on Oprah’s website that it’s good for your kidneys.”

“You must have some big kidneys,” Gus muttered.

“Not big, I just have three. Had a transplant in 03’. Oh, that rhymed!”

“Alrighty then,” Shawn forced a laugh, “Thanks for the helpful information, Wood-man. You’ve done a great service for Psych and for the good of humanity.”

~~~

Gus offered to give Shawn a ride, but he hadn’t wanted to leave his bike sitting out too long. So the two friends parted ways.

Since the Queen Marie had actually been closed down for a few days to follow up on a more in-depth murder investigation, Shawn didn’t have much else to do besides wait around a few hours before following Gus to his Red Robin date. 

Of course, there was no way he’d let Gus go off on his own on this one. He wanted to make sure if anything ‘murderous’ happened, he’d be there to save his friend. Shawn briefly toyed with the idea of calling Jules or even Lassie as backup, but he decided he’d go in alone and be ready to call if need be.

In the meantime, he stopped and got two more popsicles from the ice cream shop (this time a lemon one and a coconut one) and took his bike home to relax and pass the time. He considered calling Gus over, but didn’t want to come across the date conversation and settled on letting his best friend believe he wasn’t going to possibly accidentally crash their dinner.

Shawn watched a few episodes of Seinfeld, then watched _other_ videos on his laptop, took a hot shower to clean up, ate some microwave macaroni and then played some old-school Mario on his DS. All said and done, he was glad to have had some alone time to relax and breathe a bit. By the time he was tired of video games, it was 6pm. 

Gus was supposed to meet up with Sally-Ann at 6:30, but since Shawn was now feeling so sated and lazy, he took a cab to the restaurant, taking note of the blueberry in the parking lot.

~~~

Shawn Spencer was a good friend. At least, he felt like a good friend. Gus hadn’t noticed him take up a corner booth by himself, and he was content to keep it that way. If all went well, he’d reveal himself after so as not to disturb them during the actual date. If Sally-Ann turned out to be a murderous murderer, well, he’d be able to get the jump on her without her having suspected him.

Not too long after Shawn had arrived, Sally-Ann showed up and he watched Gus stand to give her a massive hug and then join her in sitting at the booth. He watched them for awhile until his eyes started to glaze over in boredom. For all it appeared, this might just be a normal girl on a normal date with a boy. (He left out the word normal in his mind to describe Gus. Shawn’s best friend wasn’t really any more ‘normal’ than he was.)

Suddenly, upon glancing around to survey the rest of the room, Shawn’s eyes landed upon a familiar face. He left his perfect recon position and bounded over to the face in question.

“Lassie! What are you doing here?”

Carlton looked up, seeing Shawn’s boyish smile. He groaned. “Spencer... My mom used to take me here when I was a kid. I’m reliving the old happy memories, is that a crime?” He took a gulp of ice cold water, following the icy trail down his throat to his stomach. 

“No it’s not, but I’d still be happy to arrest you if need be,” The fake psychic smirked. 

Shawn’s flirting was becoming excessive now and there was absolutely no doubt in Lassiter’s mind that Spencer was harboring a giant crush. It made him feel weird inside just thinking about it, so he said nothing. Truthfully, he’d just been looking for an escape after today’s work day. But of course, the universe would never give him such a great gift as a peaceful meal.

“Care if I join you?” Shawn said, but he’d already sat down on the other side of the table made for two.

“Gee, thanks for considering my opinion, Spencer. What are you doing here then?” He kept taking small sips of his water, as if the chill of it would put out the flame he felt rising in his cheeks. 

Shawn laughed, smiling and gestured behind him at Gus and Sally-Ann. They were sitting at a similar table to the one Lassiter and Shawn currently shared. The two held hands across it like the lovebirds they seemed to be. Gus was smiling flirtatiously and laughing about something. Sally-Ann seemed totally into it.

“It’s still entirely possible that Gus is on a date with a murderer and I’ve learned my lesson about letting him go off alone. I won’t let my boy become the next victim, ok?”

A waitress approached their table, a curvy girl with brown ringlets past her shoulders, carrying a pad of paper and a pen she’d just fished from her apron. “Hey y’all, I’m Carla and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I start you two off with anything to drink?” 

Lassiter crinkled his nose. “Large coffee for me.” One hand had already shot out to grab the small basket filled with various packets of creams and sugars. 

“One Nana Nana Moo Moo please,” said Shawn proudly, as if his knowledge of Red Robin milkshake names was something special; a true talent without one single glance at the menu. “Can we also get one of those baskets of bottomless french fries to share?” This forced an eye roll from Carlton, but he didn’t argue.

The waitress took note, asking them if they were ready to order. Shawn spared one more glance at Gus and his date. Nothing he could see was indicative of foul play whatsoever. He was starting to think perhaps she wasn’t a murderer at all. Considering Gus’ luck, it was more probable that she was, but he was open to being wrong about her. As long as he found the right person in the end, that is. As long as nobody knew he’d even been wrong at all.

Carlton ordered a chicken wrap and Shawn contentedly ordered the largest and most greasy burger he could find. 

Carla was beaming as she finished jotting down the order. “Pardon the intrusion, but is this y’all’s first date?” Her southern twang was sing songy and deep. “I took my girlfriend on our first date at a Red Robin. We decided we were hungry after the movie and it was the first thing we saw. And now, we both work here. Way back to square one!” She laughed. 

Carlton’s face was absolutely and undoubtedly flushed now. He could tell by Shawn’s smile that the other man was taking pleasure in seeing him so unwound. He tugged at his collar, feeling tightness spread to a knot in his stomach. 

“Uh no, no we’re not..”

Carla made a face, “Oh. My apologies, mister. Y’all really do look like one of those awkwardly cute couples just getting to know each other. I’ll have your food out in a jiffy, okay?” She rushed off nearly as fast as she had showed up.

For the first time in a long time Spencer seemed genuinely speechless. He looked lost in thought, with glazed over eyes and an oddly soft smile on his face. 

Lassiter didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, but he didn’t think Shawn was going to either. 

 

“Sooo, you think Guster’s girl could have committed these murders?” Carlton idly scratched the back of his neck. 

Shawn looked like someone had just pegged him in the stomach with a dodgeball and knocked the breath out of him. “Uh, it’s possible, Lassie.” He stuttered out a reasonably decent-sounding response. In his defense, trying to come up with words that made sense while being stared down by Lassiter’s bright blue eyes was far from easy.

“I see. Does he know you’re here?”

“Doubtful. I think if he’d seen me he probably would be a lot more upset than he looks right now.”

They both looked over to see Gus and Sally-Ann had just gotten their food. They were struggling to eat over the laughter they were still sharing.

A few beats of silence were shared, but interrupted by Carla dropping off Shawn’s milkshake, Lassiter’s coffee and the first basket of french fries.

Carlton got to work adding his cream and sugar to the coffee while Shawn simply picked at the french fries after applying a liberal blob of ketchup in one corner. Suddenly, he wasn’t as hungry as he’d once been. He took a few sips of his shake and leaned back in his chair.

“Fries any good?” Carlton asked. If anything, just to quell this silence between them.

Shawn looked up, a single fry dangling between his lips. He reached up, pushed it in, chewed a bit, and nodded as if that was enough of an answer.

The silence didn’t break much. For the most part, the two of them just sat there eating and drinking in silence. Shawn wasn’t sure anymore if it was truly awkward silence, or Lassiter was just done talking. He hadn’t seemed nearly as talkative lately as he usually was, even if he wasn’t really a talker anyway. 

Gus and Sally-Ann finally finished their meal and left, Gus promising to give her a ride and then Shawn sat there and watched the blueberry drive off in the setting sunlight.

Carla came to drop off the check, and Lassiter didn’t argue further, just paid for both meals in full. Shawn didn’t even get to thank him before he’d stood up and walked for the door. He only waited a beat and ran after him.

Shawn just barely caught up with Carlton as soon as he’d breached the outside. It was just starting to sprinkle, little drops of rain marking the concrete.

“Lassie!”

Carlton turned around, sighing, but didn’t make an effort to continue walking away.

“What’s been going on with you lately? Serious question.” Shawn was now backing Lassiter up against the wall of the restaurant, insuring he couldn’t escape. “We both know if I don’t say anything, nobody will.”

“Nothing, Spencer. And while I’m not sure why you’re asking, i’d appreciate if you’d back yourself out of my bubble.”

“Come on, Lassie, just answer the question.” He only inched closer. “If you won’t talk, I got enough energy to talk for us both.” He leaned to one side, putting on a tight scowl and lowering his voice several octaves. “Oh Spencer, I’ve just been under a lot of tension lately. The job is getting to me, but not as much as _you_ are getting under my skin.”

“Would you stop that!” He struggled a bit but Shawn only pushed in closer. 

“Yes, Shawn is definitely getting to me lately,” Shawn continued his deep-toned imitation. “Probably because I’m jealous of his immaculate hair.” 

“Are you gay, man? What the hell are you doing?” Carlton’s voice came out squeaky and laced with nerves. 

Shawn only backed up a tad. “Gay?” He laughed. “I’m bisexual. It just means I appreciate a fine Lass now and again.”

The wink Spencer gave him made Lassiter wonder which use of the word “Lass” Spencer really meant.

Without missing a beat, he went back into his ‘Lassiter’ voice, as if he hadn’t just come out with declaration. “There are a few reasons why I could be so salty lately. It’s possible that spending so much time with Spencer has me irritated and crabby, but if he didn’t know me better, he might guess it’s because I totally have a thing for him.”

Lassiter looked like he’d just been smacked right in the face; on both sides. His two cheeks were equally as red and his teeth gritted together, jaw clenched. He looked uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable. And in all his silence, Shawn seemed to see right through him. 

But Shawn just looked dumbfounded, like he’d seen something so improbable that it shocked him to watch it happen.

“Wait. Do you…? You actually…?” He trailed off, seemingly unable to process anything else.

What had started as a new way he’d found to make Carlton uncomfortable, Shawn had absolutely no idea that anything was even possibly reciprocated. But alas, if anything was pushed hard enough, it would inevitably break. 

Lassiter wasn’t unbreakable. Shawn had always known that. He’d seen little pieces snap off over the years, watched the detective’s raw edges smooth over more and more as he got to know him. Sure, that tension had still been there, but now, here in this moment, was the first time he’d seen anything else. Anything brand new. 

And this? This was brand new. Surreal, even. 

Shawn Spencer only did what he knew how to do best. Keep pushing. He leaned closer, slowly, as if sudden movements would jostle the man beneath him enough that he’d suddenly break free and run. 

He leaned closer until he could feel Lassiter’s heavy breaths against his cheek, until he could smell his cologne, pick out each Individual freckle of color in his wide eyes.

The world faded out beyond them. Now there was nothing and nobody else but Shawn pressed against Lassiter on an immovable wall.

Carlton was shaking. Time slowed when he couldn’t predict Shawn’s next move. His hands twitched against the cold brick of the wall, fumbling to just maybe find a way to escape.

Escaping now was moot. The warmth of Shawn’s mouth pressed against his own and the swarm of bees in his belly awoke, making him shiver down to his toes.

Spencer groaned and Lassiter felt him hard against his thigh, pressed up so close he swore he could feel the other man’s heartbeat pounding away.

He gave up, he stopped resisting, he kissed back and got lost in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, Woody is just a character from some crack fic and I don’t even care; I hope you don’t either because I’m not going to stop. I’m a child and I think it’s hilarious. (I’m not taking any responsibility if someone legitimately tries to do a “carrot cleanse” just because of this fic. I’m flattered, but there is absolutely no medical backing for this. I made it up. It’s a joke. Fan ~fiction~)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crap, guys, I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to get this next chapter out. I shouldn’t grasp at excuses, but I was super sick, went on vacation for a week, was super sick again and figuring out a new school situation with new instructors. I am exhausted!! Sorry if this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I figured short is better than prolonging this any further. Hope you enjoy anyway!!

That’s right. 

Carlton Lassiter was kissing Shawn Spencer.

_Shawn Spencer._

Shawn Spencer had Carlton Lassiter pressed up against the wall of Red Robin and was kissing him like his life depended on it. 

And the kookiest thing of all was that Carlton wasn’t resisting in the slightest. Not at first.

It was fair to say he’d imagined kissing Spencer a few times. Not enough to warrant a full-on obsession, but perhaps there had been a night or two where he’d fallen asleep after a hard day picturing how it would feel to have Spencer’s stubble scraping against his cheeks.

It killed him to know how easy it seemed to just _let go_ and give himself to this kiss entirely, but if he was being honest with himself, he was scared. Scared and defensive and as soon as he realized just _how much_ he was enjoying this, he knew the only option was to push away. 

Feelings like these were almost impossible to deal with, impossible to face. And after so many years of running from them, only to be confronted with every single one in a fraction of an instant, he panicked. Because it was simply too much to handle all at once.

Carlton pushed Shawn backwards, his chest heaving and his face impossibly more flushed than it had been before.

Shawn looked confused. Incredibly turned on, but also confused, as if he couldn’t comprehend why Lassiter had just now decided to push away. 

“You’re making a mistake,” he said after a moment of pause.

The rain was sprinkling more now, making all of Shawn’s fly-away hairs glisten and sparkle.

It hurt to see how cliche this all was, but Carlton needed time to think this all through.

He had already begun to walk towards his car, to leave, to flee this mess, when Shawn spoke up from behind him.  
Shawn’s voice sounded pained and awkward. “Uh, Lassie? I was kind of hoping you could give me a ride home. I took a cab here just in case Gus needed me, but uh, that ship’s kinda sailed…”

It could have been so easy before to bark out a demand that Spencer call another cab again, but this time it wasn’t so simple.

“Yeah. Yeah, come on. I’ll take you home.”

They drove in silence, listening to the rain splattering against the windows of Lassiter’s precious police-issued vehicle.

~~~

As Carlton finally lay his head down on his own pillows, he all but forced himself to replay the events of those past few hours in his head.

In hindsight, he should have known Shawn and Gus would be the type to frequent a restaurant like that. Yet he was tired, saw it on the drive home, and felt pulled to it. A silly concept really, but look where it ended up.

Carlton Lassiter had kissed Shawn Spencer.

_Freaking Shawn Spencer._

The unthinkable had actually happened.

It should really have been far more surprising, because he didn’t think he’d ever be here in a post-Shawn-kiss world, but at the same time it seemed to not be the most improbable of scenarios.

Perhaps he was more likely to get struck by lightning, or bitten by a shark, or killed by a falling coconut or a piano to the head, but all in all, this seemed oddly _right._ Something almost akin to destiny; if he believed in such silly things like fairytale romances or psychic detectives.

Regardless, Carlton did believe in love. Was what he had with Shawn love? No. Not now. But could it be? That was a question that racked his mind.

Shawn Spencer had kissed him and he’d kissed back. Even with his fury of heavy denial, it was extremely difficult to wipe that fact clear completely. There was no explanation for a returned kiss besides some semblance of romantic feelings.

Yet there was a ball of unspoken fear that had nestled itself deep in his belly, thick and sticky without any feelings of leaving anytime soon. Fantasy and reality were two entirely different concepts. A kiss from Shawn felt like a fantasy that he was terrified to try and shape into reality.

Beside him on the bedside table, his phone buzzed. 

_‘Hey Lassie, are we good?’_

Regardless he still found himself smiling in a weird way.

_‘Yes.’_

He kept his reply short. It was so difficult to change himself all at once, to just give in to the pull to text something back, anything, that was more in depth than just a single word. He wished he was emotionally stronger.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

_‘That’s good. It’s good that we’re good. I’m glad we’re good. Where are we going now? And furthermore, is that place also just as good?’_

He didn’t know how to respond. 

Carlton was trying to think, but it felt like he was stuck between every single one of his insecurities. 

It wasn’t the gay thing that bothered him, it was an image thing. It was the idea of everyone at the station finding out his deepest secret. His awkward and strained crush on the stupid psychic. It was the idea of how everyone might view him and treat him differently if something like this came out.

So no, what he had with Spencer wasn’t love. Not now and maybe not ever. But perhaps if he could just catch it now, to stop it before shit hit the fan, he could continue running. He could continue denying that anything had changed, or that anything (such as a kiss!) had happened between them. Maybe if he could stop this now he’d never have to face this reality, and he could continue living in his fantasy.

Regardless of whether or not he had enjoyed kissing Shawn (he had) it would be easier in the long run if he stopped this before things got truly messy. 

_Right back into denial, Carlton._

He picked up his phone and found a response that worked in this moment.

_‘It’s not going anywhere. I will not discuss this again. See you at work.’_

He breathed out a shaky huff. Time to stop chasing things meant only for fantasies.

~~~

Carlton woke in the morning with a splitting headache and three missed calls from O’Hara.

“What the hell…” he muttered, picking his phone up.

The tightly coiled ball of fear in his belly throbbed.

He called her back.

“Carlton.” She said as she answered his call.

He sat up in bed, “O’Hara. What’s wrong?”

“Shawn came to see me.” Her voice was mostly monotone, with just a hint of awkwardness.

The ball of fear started to cramp and rattle. He grasped his stomach in pain.

“Why?” He said stiffly without emotion.

“He wouldn’t tell me specifics, but he wanted me to call you. He wanted me to relay a message.”

“Go on,” said Carlton.

“He wanted to apologize. And he wanted me to tell you that he’s trying to make things right.” She paused. “Carlton… Did something happen between the two of you?”

He sighed. This was exactly something he could see Shawn doing. The man was too timid to face him directly. He probably thought he would mess things up by getting too close, but he’d be correct in that. Carlton liked a little distance.

“Everything’s fine. I’ll call you if I need someone to talk to. Take it easy, partner.”

Lassiter fell backwards, bouncing lightly until his head settled on his pillow. 

His next move wasn’t clear. What he wanted and what he needed, he felt were two different things.

~~~

Shawn left Juliet’s apartment, his mind a crumpled mess. 

For the first time in such a long time, something had started to make sense; a little kernel among everything else that he still didn’t understand.

Her words rang in his head.

_“Sometimes the moments that make the most sense happen when everything else doesn't.”_

He’d realized a long time ago he wasn’t truly in love with her. He may have loved her, but Shawn didn’t want a relationship with her anymore. Friendship with Jules felt the most right.

But a friendship with Lassie?

That didn’t feel right.

It seemed to be an all or nothing with Lassie, too. Either Shawn would remain the annoying coworker that solved his cases and made him look bad for a head detective, or he’d crawl right into his heart and fall madly in love with him.

Shawn was sick of the status quo they’d built up. He wanted to see how a relationship with Lassiter would really work, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy to get there. And that’s why he’d gone to see Juliet. Because he trusted her and he knew Lassie trusted her, so the message would be relayed how he wanted it to be, and Carlton would listen. Shawn just hoped it would get through to him.

He was sorry. He was sorry about the impromptu kiss, about trying to rush into things, about pushing Carlton way too much outside of his comfort zone. But Shawn wasn’t dumb. He may not have been the most socially aware human alive, but Lassiter was someone Shawn just _understood._

Shawn called Gus and asked him to meet him at the smoothie shop in ten. 

~~~

 

Gus pulled up and parked the Blueberry in front of Blenders in the Grass. He noticed Shawn was already inside as he watched his best friend standing at the counter with a massive grin on his face as he was handed two large cups. Gus got out of the car and walked towards the shop as Shawn opened the door.

“I got a mango and tropical pineapple for myself and the red banana for you.” He handed the red drink to Gus, taking a large slurp of his delicious tropical treat.

“Thanks Shawn. Shall we sit?” Gus motioned to a bench a few paces from the front door.

They both took a seat; Gus sitting rather politely and Shawn with legs outstretched in front of him.

“So what’s up, man?” said Gus. “Is there a new development in the case?”

Shawn twitched his lips, “Nah. At least, not that I know of. Is it such a crime to want to have a delicious blended treat with my best friend in the whole world?”

“Not at all, Shawn. Is anything else going on then?” Gus sipped on his drink, looking across the street at a bus stop where a man had just came to sit. He was itching his neck uncomfortably.

Shawn followed his friend’s glance. “Not to be a conversation killer, but isn’t that Keith Weston from the Pirates auditions?”

“Yeah, I think it is. Wonder where he’s headed.”

Shawn zeroed in on every discrepancy in Keith’s behavior. He was somehow different than he had seemed at the auditions. This obviously set off red flags in Shawn’s head.

Keith began to itch at himself a little more aggressively. Maybe he was a tweaker, Shawn thought, but that didn’t seem right. Something just felt… off. 

The two friends then watched as another man, presumably an innocent civilian bystander, stopped walking past and sat at the bus stop besides Keith.

Then Keith let out a loud bellow as he stood up and ripped his shirt clean from his chest, itching more frantically now. The man beside him looked spooked, and inched to the other end of the bus stop bench.

“Bugs!” cried Keith, drawing red marks into his skin from how hard he was scraping his hands down his torso and his arms and now his neck. “They’re multiplying!”

“What the hell…” said Gus. “Do you think we should call somebody? Lassiter?”  
Shawn stiffened at the mention of the head detective, but nodded his head. He dialed Carlton’s number. 

“Lassie? Look, I’m sure I’m the last person you want to speak to right now…”

Gus looked at Shawn quizzically. Shawn knew he’d be asked to explain that choice of words later.

“...But there’s something going on down at the bus station across from the smoothie shop. It’s Keith Weston from the auditions. Come quick.”

Shawn clicked _end call_ and ignored Gus’ questioning gaze.

Keith was becoming more violent now. He was yelling out curse words at random intervals and the man who had been there prior had run off in the other direction, most likely to the next closest stop. Shawn couldn't blame him.

Neither Shawn nor Gus wanted to move any closer, so they were content to sit on the bench sipping at their smoothies until they heard approaching sirens.

Other people had stopped at what they determined to be safe distances, watching the scene unfold, but Shawn knew once Lassie showed up, they’d all be asked to, ‘Move along!’

Keith was whipping his torn shirt against the bus stop bench, cursing and yelping and stopping every so often to itch himself again. 

No matter how many times he mentioned bugs, there were never any to be seen.

Several cop cars tore down the street, with Lassiter’s car leading the way. They all skidded to a stop next to the crazed man. An ambulance followed closely behind.

Carlton Lassiter and Juliet O’Hara were the first to jump from their car, Carlton with his gun already drawn, barking out a command to, “Stand down!”

Keith turned to the detectives with fire in his eyes and cried out, “It was the beautiful woman!” before collapsing. 

The paramedics rushed in.

Lassiter turned to look at Shawn and Gus, shaking his head.

~~~

The door to interrogation room 3 opened, and Lassiter walked in.

Shawn and Gus were sat at the table, faces blank.

Carlton took a seat across from them.

“How is he?” Gus asked.

“Stable. He could have died, though. All signs pointing to an overdose, they’re running tox screens now.” He shifted in his chair. “You know I have to ask you two for your statements. I need to hear everything that happened.”

Shawn stayed silent, avoiding Lassiter’s gaze.

Gus looked at his friend, back to Lassiter, and sighed.

“We didn’t see much. We were just enjoying our smoothies outside, and saw Keith approach the bus stop and sit down, but he was itching. He ripped his shirt off and couldn’t stop itching himself and screaming about bugs.”

“There was no evidence of any bug bites on him, I can tell you that,” said Carlton.

“Right,” Gus agreed. 

“But I should tell you, Guster, we sent some officers over to your new girlfriend’s apartment. It would be wrong of us not to check out this _‘beautiful woman’_ lead.”

“Wait, what?” Gus looked angry now. Shawn was still looking away.

“Right now, we’re just bringing her in for more questioning, but if she doesn’t have a solid alibi here, she’s currently our biggest suspect.” Carlton’s face was drawn tight in a grimace. He stood up and pushed his chair in. “You’re both free to go.”

Gus followed suit and stood, but pointed at Lassiter and said pointedly, “You better be kind to her. Sally-Ann did absolutely nothing wrong. She is _not_ a murderer.” He stalked out of the room, leaving Lassiter and Shawn alone.

“Do you really think she’s our killer?” Shawn said softly.

“I’m not sure, Spencer,” Lassiter sighed, raking a hand through his hair in exasperation. 

Shawn still didn’t look up.

Neither spoke for a moment. Carlton turned to leave.

“Lassie. Wait.”

He turned around, facing Shawn, who had finally looked up.

Shawn let out a shaky sigh. “Man, I just want everything to be ok between us.”

“Everything’s fine,” he replied curtly.

“I think you’re just scared to admit you have feelings for me.”

_Bold move, Shawn._

“No, Spencer.” Carlton narrowed his eyes, “I don’t have anything for you. There’s nothing here, and it will be easier for you the sooner you get that through your head.”

“Lassie… Come on…”

It hurt Carlton somewhere deep to see the look on Spencer’s face, but he pushed it down for the greater good.

“I appreciate your honesty in relaying your feelings, but there’s nothing on my end. I’m sorry.” 

This time he really did turn and leave. And Shawn let him.

~~~

When Gus called Shawn a few hours later, he rolled out of bed and picked up his phone.

“Gus?”

“Lassiter just called me. They’re arresting Sally-Ann for the murders.”

Shawn’s mouth dropped.

“Something about that her alibi didn’t check out. Shawn, you’re going to find who really did this, right? I shouldn’t have to be worried, right?” 

Gus’ voice was trembling and Shawn felt horrible. He wanted to blame himself.

“Can we meet at Psych soon? I believe you, buddy. Sally-Ann isn’t our perp. Lassie won’t listen to my psychicness right now, we need to prove someone else is behind this.”

“I’m here now, come when you can.”

Shawn sped to their office on his bike going 90 on the highway.

~~~

“Gus?” Shawn said as he opened the door. The lights were off and Gus was sitting at his desk, the only cut through the dimness coming from the illumination of his laptop screen.

“Sit down, Shawn.” 

Shawn took a seat on one of the chairs by the window.

Gus looked up from his computer, “Do you wanna tell me your plan?”

“I don’t currently have a solid plan, but as soon as the show opens again, assuming it will, then we’ll really have to start digging. I need more ammo for my visions.”

“I feel like a failure, Shawn. I feel like I failed this innocent girl by letting Lassie take her away.” 

Shawn slumped down in his chair. He felt for Gus, he really did. His friend seemed to rather enjoy the company of this girl. And she certainly didn’t seem like the murdering type, that’s for sure. He prayed she wasn’t guilty and that they’d be able to sort everything out soon. 

“Can I tell you something, Gus?” 

Gus looked up, his expression still one of defeat. “What?”

“I trailed you and Sally-Ann to your date. I sat in a corner booth and watched for awhile, drinking a smoothie and observing her closely. I have to say, at first I wasn’t sure, but after watching the two of you for awhile, I can confidently say I don’t believe she’s guilty at all.”

Gus said nothing.

“...I was planning on catching her somehow, getting her arrested and having you give me a lift home afterwards, but I ran into Lassie.”

“Wait, what? Lassie was at Red Robin?”

“Yeah, he was. I went to sit with him and we talked for awhile. After eating, he left and I followed him. And, well, one thing led to another and I kissed him, Gus.”

“You kissed Lassie!?” Gus’ eyes went wide in shock. “Dude! Why?”

Shawn awkwardly chuckled a bit, “I did. I kissed Lassie. I kissed the head detective. I kissed freakin’ Carlton Lassiter.” He paused. “I kissed him, probably because I’ve finally admitted to myself my major crush on him!”

“Dude, that’s big... Did he freak? I can’t imagine he wouldn’t…”

Shawn thought back to what Lassiter had texted him. “Mmm, I’d say that’s an accurate way of putting it. He wants to deny he has any feelings to return, he wants to shut me out.”

“Alright,” Gus stood up. “You’re my best friend, Shawn. You know I’m supportive of whoever you choose for a partner, and if you’re really that hooked on Lassie, I’m there with you one hundred percent. But you gotta promise to do your best now and clear Sally-Ann’s name.” He wiped his eyes and stood taller, more confidently.

Shawn joined his friend in standing tall. “You know I’m always there for you too, Buddy. Let’s do this.”

There was just enough light in the dark room to land a perfect fist bump.


End file.
